Simple Mistakes
by nirvana heart
Summary: Everybody thought Pickles and Toki would be over within a week. Nobody thought that they were worth it. Everybody thought they would destroy Dethklok - and no one thought it would only benefit the band. A collection of drabbles.
1. First Times

Their first kiss was not exactly the most enjoyable experience. His beard scratched against his chin, and his lips tasted of alcohol. He pressed himself against the other body, fingers in brown hair, his eyes suddenly warm and welcoming. He felt wanted, even when the younger man pulled away first and watched the other man's eyes blink as he grinned. Pickles the drummer slung an arm around Toki's shoulder, and dragged him off to his bedroom, whistling cheerfully. Pickles had assumed that after their first kiss, Toki would be swooning into his arms, madly and crazy in love. Instead, he told him to go buy some mouthwash, and that drinking was bad.

* * *

One evening, when Charles advised they spend the beautiful, skylit evening outside of Mordhaus, Pickles and Toki naturally went off together. Nathan decided to go to the record store and listen to that Cradle Of Filth album he'd been meaning to buy. Skwisgaar, undoubtedly, would be hanging around in the guitar shop. Murderface...well, they didn't know where Murderface would go. To some place that sold morbid crap, probably. Pickles decided to take Toki to the beach, making him close his eyes throughout the entire journey. The heat hung around like a soft blanket, and the beach was entirely deserted. They walked along grass, then Toki felt his footsteps sink a little and he realised he was stepping on sand. Finally, Pickles pulled him down to sit next to him, and he told him to open his eyes. Toki had never seen any sunset so beautiful.

* * *

Toki spent occasional nights in Pickles' room, and the two, unlike any other member of Dethklok, would talk to each other, laugh at jokes, giggle at stories, comfort each other when needed, dance, play games, watch movies, or just lie and cuddle each other. Toki was in the mood to dance, so Pickles got out his secret record collection and immediately stuck on an old favourite. Michael Jackson's _Thriller._ Toki was surprised at the drummer's vast collection of 80s pop, rock, and almost everything he could fathom. They were dancing about the room, pretending to be MJ himself, when Nathan burst in and just stared at the laughing musicians.

* * *

Pickles was drunk. Toki decided to make him a cup of tea. That was normal. However, in his drunk state, Pickles managed to notice a baby blue ribbon tied around Toki's left arm. He blinked, stumbled a little in his seat, and opened his numb lips to speak.

"T-Toki? Wh's dat...on yer aahhhrm?"

Toki looked down. "...it's a mementos of someones, Pickle."

Pickles expected him to shout in a rather uncharacteristic manner. Toki set down a cup of tea in front of the drummer, who reached for it and was surprised by its heat. "Of who?"

"...my father."

* * *

Toki had lost count of the weeks, months that Pickles spent in his room, emerging only for food, drink, band meetings, and hot tub time. He wouldn't let any other band member help on whatever he was doing, aside from Skwisgaar, who appeared to have vast knowledge about whatever the drummer was doing. Finally, on Toki's birthday in December, six months after Pickles began to hibernate in his room, the drummer emerged. He was watching cartoons when Pickles's hand tapped him on the back.

"He-appy birthday, Toki!" he grinned, rushing to the sofa and picking up a guitar Toki had never seen. It was a Flying V, and Toki immediately realised that Pickles had built it all by himself. It still smelt of paint, but was dry, and the guitarist inspected it. It looked as if a company had made it, professionally. Pickles was met by a massive hug, arms tightly wound around him.

"Pickle...oh, Pickle, t'anks you!"

He kissed his drummer again and again, not caring that his face had flecks of black paint on it.


	2. Fears

Pickles had been very excited when the Snakes n' Barrels reunion tour was announced. Everybody appeared to be somewhat happy for him; but not Toki. The rhythm guitarist wasn't ready to see _his_ friend, _his_ lover, be on stage with some other band. Pickles rehearsed with his old band, and they were brilliant. Toki couldn't even begin to describe the feelings that coursed through his body when he heard his drummer sing. He worked away as normal with Dethklok, trying not to cry whenever someone mentioned Pickles' abscence. Every time Pickles spoke to him over the phone, his heart fluttered. As much as he knew it would never happen, Toki could not help but be absolutely petrified that Pickles would join Snakes n' Barrels, leave Dethklok, and leave his lover.

* * *

"I would gives my life to be likes Skwisgaar..."

"Theat's fuckin' stupid!"

"But Pickle," Toki protested weakly, holding the phone with both hands, as if it would bring Pickles literally closer. "It's my dream, to has the solos, to bes great, and maybe you don't, but I do! Isn't a greats dream worth givings up life fors?"

Pickles wished he could hold Toki, kiss him, but he was too far away. A phone didn't suffice. "It's naht," he whispered. "There are dreams worth fightin' fer, but naht ta be like _Skwisgaar. _He's an asshole most of da time. You have pe-assion, when yer playin' the guitar. He don't. He's all about speed. A dream to be like an asshole ain't worth _you_ dyin', Toki..."

He knew Pickles couldn't see it, but Toki smiled.

* * *

Mordhaus, as large as it was, was quiet without the drummer. Toki loved the feeling that Pickles brought into his life, and now he was gone, he realised how much he missed the redhead. It hurt him that he left, just like that, even if he had said a temporary goodbye. He wasn't going to be gone forever. He knew that he wouldn't go back to Snakes n' Barrels, he had confirmed that plenty of times. Toki was willing to wait. Even Murderface had said that he missed Pickles, followed by a quiet agreement from Nathan. Skwisgaar didn't say a word.

Nobody questioned his actions when Toki took his guitar off halfway through a drum-less version of 'Go Forth and Die' and ran out of the studio, crying his heart out.

* * *

Toki's room was cold. It was cold, and he was glad to not be in a room where the walls were made of stone. His breath misted in front of him. A clattering from a nearby corridor - the front door of Mordhaus. Toki wildly ran to the doorway and sprinted to it, only to be disappointed. Nathan had returned from shopping. Searching for something, he said. Nathan actually felt pity for Toki. He was still such a child - but now, a terrified child, searching desperately for its only source of comfort. In Toki's case, that source was Pickles.

After Nathan shrugged and walked back to the main room to argue with Skwisgaar some more, Toki sighed. "I's searchings for something, too."

* * *

"I used to lies on de sofa in my old house backs in Norways and watch de meteor showers through the windows. They gots closer, every time they cames by. Eventually, they blocksed out the stars. They gaves me hope...that life would gets better..."

The older man stroked Toki's hair as he leaned on his shoulder. He knew the drummer was listening.

"Pickle...I thought you wasn'ts going to comes back...I wanted to sees you. I was so lonelies."

He was met by a kiss - and Toki obliged. Sometimes, Pickles didn't need to say anything at all.


	3. Acquaintance

Toki sighed and rubbed at his brow. It always became so hot in the studio. So much that Skwisgaar had his shirt off. The lead guitarist, singer and bassist were at the soundboard, with Pickles and Toki recording. During a five-minute break, Toki leant against the wall, gasping for air in the stuffy room.

"How does you stands it, Pickle?" Toki whined, almost to the point of tears. Growing up in Norway didn't exactly prevent him from being immune to heat.

"Dood, I'm from Wiscahnsin," Pickles giggled. "Here. Let's 'ave sahm fun."

His hands were slick from sweat, and watched while Toki took off his guitar. He pounced on the young Norwegian and tickled him, laughing at the man's squeals and they rolled over, insulting one another jokingly. Toki got his own back by tickling the ridiculously sensitive skin of Pickles, who screamed and laughed so loud that the three men watching were sure they had gone deaf.

* * *

Toki was never usually critical unless something _really_ bothered him. The fact that he could hear a baby's wailing, unable to place its location, was annoying him greatly. He didn't even know the time, but it was beginning to become brighter outside; it was far too early in the morning for this. Climbing out of bed and following the cries, he traced it to a room near Charles Ofdensen's office. It was knowledge to the band he had a young daughter and she stayed in Mordhaus during his time there, but no one aside from the manager really caught any glimpse of her. She was only at least a few months old, according to him. Toki was surprised when he peeked his head around the door, glad he was in the shadows.

Pickles was standing at the cot, holding the baby close to him, letting it wail into his chest as he rocked it gently, quietly singing a lullaby in Toki's native language. The rhythm guitarist had sang to him, too.

"Hush, hush, baby..." he whispered softly, assuaging its cries, mostly to prevent Nathan from screaming Mordhaus down in frustration. Charles would obviously be grateful, but other than that, Pickles didn't really understand why he was doing it. To Toki, it was strange to see him so gentle to a child, but it also warmed his heart greatly and a rush of pride flowed through him. As far as Toki knew, Pickles had never really had any experience of being a father.

But when he caught sight of Pickles' face, he realised that it wasn't just the baby who was crying.

* * *

The guitar in the studio was rarely used by Toki. For everything else, he had truckloads of Flying V guitars in his room and scattered all over Mordhaus. Pickles thought it was funny how the Flying V he appeared to use most had been given a name, as well as the majority of the other ones. While himself and Toki were jamming in the studio, he stopped halfway through a practice of 'Birthday Dethday' and began to curse at his guitar.

"I's sorries, Pickle..._mitt våpen _is nots wantings to co-poperates."

The drummer blinked from behind the kit. "What does _mitt..._waht-ever ya said mean?"

"It means my weapon..._meg elske."_

"And dat? I ce-an't underste-and ya, Toki."

The rhythm guitarist walked over to Pickles, bent over the bass drum, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. Pickles just hoped they'd shut the door, but eventually responded.

"It means...mines love..."

Pickles smiled.

* * *

Mordhaus had an extremely high mortality rate. As a result of this, Pickles returned to the living room, injured - blood trickling down his leg and a noticeable limp.

Toki made him sit down while he looked at the wound. "Pickle, what happeneds to you?"

"Couple'a stoopid fe-ans got in here and they were so crazy dat they me-anaged to attack me. I'm goin' to da hospital tamorrow with Ahfdensen. Quit fussin', Toki."

"But you're hurts, Pickle..."

Even though Pickles was trying to assuage Toki, assuring him he was fine, he was clearly in pain. His face seemed tight and strained. Of course, Charles took him to the hospital, promising Pickles would be fine within a few days. But Toki knew what Mordhaus was like, and would never stop fearing that each time Pickles was hurt, eventually, one time would be his last.

* * *

Pickles had undergone a minor surgery to repair the torn muscle in his leg. The band visited him occasionally, but Toki was desperate. When Charles confirmed to Dethklok that Pickles had just come out of a successful surgery, Toki had cried and demanded to see him. Now he was in the waiting room, he felt nauseous and nervous, even with Charles close behind him.

"It's alright, Toki. He'll be very pleased to see you."

Toki took surprise in this and nervously, walked through the door into the blindingly white, bright ward. Pickles stood out, his hair a fiery red, and his eyes hadn't lost their emerald shine. He was reading a magazine, looking quite content and happy with his surroundings. Charles left them be, and when Pickles noticed the rhythm guitarist, he did nothing but smile.

"I missed ya."

"I's sorries for not beings theres, Pickle...I misses you too."

They met in a kiss.


	4. Promises and Devotion

All his life, Toki had told himself that he'd die for Skwisgaar. To be like Skwisgaar. If it got the lead guitarist to empathize with him, Toki would have done it in an instant. Of course, no one could see the logic in it. Murderface said it was dumb, Nathan said he didn't want to lose his rhythm guitarist to something as stupid as that, and Skwisgaar found it irritating.

Until Pickles confronted him.

"Skwisgaar, do ya even realise waht that kid's sayin'?" Pickles cried, not even caring he was in full view of Nathan, Murderface, and Toki himself. "He said he'd die for you. _Die for ya! _And I thought it was stupid, and I still think dat! He wants ta be jest like you, Skwisgaar, can't ya consider his feelings fer once? Yer an arrogant fucking arsehole, and that kid fucking loves ya to bits!"

He stormed out of the room, Toki following like he usually did, holding the now-sobbing drummer close, whispering Norwegian words of comfort, love, while the drummer just cried.

That evening, Skwisgaar came into Toki's room and began to teach him the solo from 'Thunderhorse'.

* * *

Pickles and Toki had been alone together, but this was in a different context. _Alone together._ Somehow, Dethklok had kept themselves away from them that night, Nathan asking them to go dance to some 'un-brutal' artist like Cyndi Lauper. Pickles obliged, with a confused Toki in tow. However, once in Pickles' room, he locked the door and Toki was terrified he would mess it up like an awkward teenager.

Then he kissed him and his doubts were immediately vanquished.

* * *

The stage was so stifling. Toki wiped the sweat from his brow during a bass solo from Murderface, and then carried on. His dream. Pickles' dream. Their dream.

Laser lights flashed, courtesy of Nathan, the temperature increased as the bodies of ninety thousand Dethklok disciples moshed together, dancing the waltz of death, their sweat and heat mixing into the air and it was suffocating. Pickles didn't stop, didn't falter. He bashed at the drums, the passion in his eyes fuelling him. Out of the corner, he watched Toki. Compared him to Skwisgaar. The lead seemed so robotic, the rhythm was moving, jumping, held so much love and devotion for the guitar.

In the final notes of 'Murmaider', as the band were going offstage, Pickles rushed up to Toki and kissed him wildly on the lips. "Dood, you were fuckin' brilliant out there...I'm proud of ya, babe."

Met with wolf-whistles and cheering, they hadn't quite made it off stage yet.

* * *

"Pickle..." Toki sighed. "You won'ts leave, wills you?"

His head twisted to face him, marvelling at his beauty. They were relaxing in the hot tub after the show, though not all of Dethklok were present. Murderface had gone to bed, but Skwisgaar insisted they stay up late to practice 'brutality'. The redhead and the Norwegian sat close together.

"Why would ya think dat?"

He felt his stomach lighten. Pickles meant it. He really meant it. He cuddled against him, enjoying the feel of warm water up to his mid-chest like a large blanket, and Pickles there next to him. His free arm enclosed him, the other holding a drink. He was there. Toki wasn't really alone anymore.

* * *

Black fire upon Mordhaus. It seemed as if the entire world was going to end. Silent tears ran down Toki's face as he gazed into the sky with the rest of Dethklok missing. Firmly closing his eyes, he tried to fight back the tears, but they didn't stop. _Pickles. He's out there, he's fighting them...he'll be alright. _Toki wouldn't let anything happen to Dethklok.

Just as he was about to turn away, he felt a pair of lithe arms immediately pull him backwards and against a lean body, and Toki burst into more fits of tears when he realised it was Pickles. The drummer's face was black with soot, his face red, but his eyes still glittering and his lips still smiling. "I prahmised, Toki...I prahmised I'd come back...they're naht gonna hurt you..."

Toki just cried.


	5. Marriage

Pickles stared out at the infinite ocean, the rain lashing against his skin as the sun was setting. It had _looked_ warm, it had _looked_ tropical, but no, it was raining. Hot, humid rain. Strangely, Pickles liked it. His stomach was in a knot...or at the very least, some kind of vice. He'd asked Toki to marry him. And he couldn't look at him. At the beach. Alone.

"P-Pickle..." the Norwegian sobbed. "S-Says it again..."

The drummer briskly walked back to Toki, finding it in himself. Grabbing the guitarist by both shoulders, he looked him straight in the eyes. "M-Marry...m-marry me..."

"Yes! Yes, I says it a b-billions times, yes! I marries you, I m-marries you, I marries y-you..."

They kissed as the sun's red rays illuminated them, silencing the doubts, and vocalizing the love and sensations.

* * *

Men weren't a pain in the ass, Pickles decided. Aside from Skwisgaar, or difficult like Murderface. Actually, fuck that. Men _were_ difficult.

Pickles didn't understand why he'd ended up marrying Toki when he knew his parents wanted him to settle with a nice _lady,_ and Seth would never let him live it down.

Not many people Pickles ended up in a relationship with lasted for long. That gave him a new kind of respect and adoration for the Norwegian, who desperately loved and cared for him and _needed_ him.

And when Mordhaus was burning, his world crumbling, there was no way he was going to let Toki die.

* * *

"Congratulations," Nathan said. He _smiled, _even. The moments in which Nathan smiled were rare, and lasted only a few seconds. But God, what a blissful few seconds.

Pickles grinned. "Thanks, dood."

"I hope your fucking parents aren't here. How did they react when you told them?"

"...I didn't. I jest said I was gettin' married."

Nathan slapped his forehead, trying not to look at the brown-haired, incredibly annoying man that stood behind Pickles.

"So, bro, dude, I hear you got married...who's the lucky lady, eh?"

* * *

Pickles ran a hand over his face. Why did Toki have to be so adorable that it was difficult for Pickles to _not_ feel a guilty sensation in his stomach whenever he upset him? Pickles didn't mean it. God, he would never hurt Toki intentionally. But that comment that had slipped out...why did he have to take it so _personally? _Toki hated his parents. Pickles wished he hated them more. Maybe they weren't dead because Toki didn't love them, and everyone Toki loved died. Usually.

Pickles froze in his tracks, realising this scary thought as he was looking down at the Norwegian, who was sitting in the steps, silent tears pouring down his cheeks.

"I'm sahhry, babe," he sighed, sitting next to him. Instead of shoving him away, Toki immediately wrapped his arms tight around him. Maybe he'd just been reading Pickles' mind.

"I loves you," he whispered, sobs catching in his throat. "I l-loves you, P-Pickle...m-my beautiful, h-handsome..._don'ts dies..."_

Pickles couldn't promise that. But hell, he'd sure fucking try to survive. "I won't, babe."

* * *

And then Rebecca came along, presumably a candidate for Nathan to marry. The lead singer, however, was kind enough to remind Dethklok that he was pissed off with humanity and Pickles was glad he wasn't married to a woman like that - or even a man like that. An enormous mansion with too many flights of stairs was still considered a 'shithole' by Nathan. Nightrod. What a fucking stupid surname.

Pickles accompanied Nathan when he went to see her in hospital. Didn't let Toki come. He didn't want him catching anything contagious - Toki was ill with the flu.

That morning as he was about to leave, ignoring Nathan's screams for him to hurry up, Pickles rushed into Toki's room and kissed the sleeping rhythm guitarist goodbye, and promised he'd be back later. Pickles didn't see it, but Toki turned in his sleep, sniffled, and smiled.


	6. Holiday

Pickles had the money to take Toki anywhere he wanted, and the first place he thought of? Spain. Telling him about the beaches and the food there had been a mistake.

Well, the first actual place he thought of had been Candy Mountain.

"It's more fucking British than...well, Britain!"

He dragged the bags into their bedroom and groaned. "Those fuckin' asses shoulda let us stay fer nuthin'! I'm Pickles the Goddamn Drummer."

Toki looked around. "This musts have costs a bomb..."

"We've gat money ta burn."

"And you couldn'ts spends so much for your husband, could you?" Toki giggled lovingly, grabbing Pickles and cuddling him from behind. "Loves you."

* * *

Lying on the beach, with dreadlocks sticking to his head and sand in places he didn't enjoy, Pickles was sure he was burning to death. Next to him, Toki looked relaxed, tanning nicely, unlike the pale drummer. He didn't even understand how a _Norwegian_ could tan so easily when he was from Wisconsin, and was whiter than a ghost.

"Toki, it's too fuckin' haht here," he moaned. "Why didn't ya wanna go to Norway?"

"I knows what you woulds have said if we wents there."

"What?"

Toki sat up and chuckled, attempting the best Yooper dialect he could. "'Toki, it's too fucking _cold_ here. Why didn't ya wannas go to Spains?"

Pickles muttered something under his breath.

* * *

The early Spanish mornings were Pickles' time to relax. He was often up early, but this morning, he chose to simply lie in bed and watch the sun rise through the curtains. To amuse himself for the time being, he'd been teaching himself Spanish while Toki marvelled at the sights and tried all kinds of foreign foods. Pickles swore he'd never eat tapas again.

Turning away to sit on the side, he stretched, and then felt a light thud on his back. Twisted his head to see Toki kneeling there, holding a pillow. "Pillow fights, _mi amor?"_

_"Seguir adelante, pruébame!"_ Pickles retorted, laughing as he grabbed his pillow and began to wallop Toki with it. The two musicians laughed together as they fought their early morning battle, not caring how thin the walls were and that they had woken up their entire hallway.

* * *

Pickles had never been more surprised when Toki told him that he'd always wanted children. Now, that fact itself didn't surprise the drummer, but when he'd been told to think about it, he had cocked his eyebrows back in surprise and his mouth hung agape. Physically, it was impossible. Mentally...Pickles wasn't sure.

"Toki, yer a moron. Wait till we gat home first, yeah? Then we'll talk about yer kiddy business."

"I's sorries..."

The redhead felt guilty, and it was Toki's turn to be surprised when Pickles whispered in his ear that he wanted children, too.

* * *

Once they returned to Mordhaus, Toki slept for most of the day. Pickles was wide awake and he had no clue what to think. _Toki wants kids. Toki wants kids. Goddamnit, am I ready for a fucking family?_ As much as Dethklok was family, they weren't people he could watch as they grew up from babyhood. He kept it to himself, but Pickles had always wanted to see that.

Toki woke up just after dinner time, and he ate his in the living room with the other band members. Pickles was relaxing in the hot tub with Nathan, Tequila Sunrise in hand, when the rhythm guitarist spoke.

"Pickle, let's adopt."

Nathan spat out his drink.


	7. A New Life

Toki was excited. He rushed around Mordhaus in between talking to Charles and sorting things out, who had been subjected to a horrid pile of paperwork.

That same day, the manager took Pickles and Toki to an orphanage. The drummer was certain he was going to start crying if Toki didn't first. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of protectiveness towards the abandoned children. They were well-cared for, some ranging from almost newborn babies to ten year olds. Toki was desperate for a very young baby, and Pickles didn't really have a preference.

However, when he saw a young brown-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful boy sitting alone, Pickles knew he just had to have him.

* * *

His name had been Alex. Pickles stayed with Charles, standing in the office, his eyes brimming with tears. Toki sat in the chair, looking concerned for his lover.

"I want that little dood," Pickles gasped. "Charles, you have no idea. I fucking gatta have him."

"Pickles..." Charles sighed, knowing it was best not to anger or upset the drummer even more so. "I can understand that seeing those children was a very emotional ordeal for both of you. I will do my best, but adoption takes a lot of time, and there will be many, many procedures-"

"He looks _exahhctly_ how Toki did when he was younger. I don't care how long it takes, Charlie. He's gat Toki's eyes. I jest...I want a son with Toki's eyes."

Toki was crying, his mouth hanging open.

* * *

The two had gone back to visit him again, and Toki had very gently asked the four-year-old if he wanted to come live with them. Upon heaing this, Alex burst into tears, begging for a family. Toki pulled him in to cuddle, promising that they would take him in, be the best fathers anyone could ever be, promising a whole load of things that spilled from his mouth. Pickles stood behind him, his own tears freshly rolling down his cheeks, the hope in his heart soaring, that they would have Alex. Toki had seen his own likeness in the little boy, and informed him of this.

Pickles and Toki were outside for some fresh air when the rhythm guitarist finally spoke, his voice cracking with tears. "How l-longs d-do we has t-to wait, Pickle?"

"Charlie said around six more months. And even then..."

Toki grimaced. "It won'ts be easies, will it?"

Pickles brought him in for a reassuring kiss, failing to realise that Alex opened the door in the attempt to find them. Pickles broke away sharply, but his heart sank, knowing Alex had already seen it. But instead of questioning their actions, the little boy simply broke out into an ear-to-ear grin.

"I knew you were like that with each other! Now I'll have two daddies instead of one!"

Pickles burst into tears.

* * *

Pickles had always been known as a man who took no bullshit. When he told that to Toki, the Norwegian giggled and agreed. When he told that to Charles, the manager didn't even crack a small chuckle. Things were not going to plan. Allegedly, the parents of Alex now wanted him back. Pickles and Toki had gone to bed crying their hearts out. Charles would find a way about it. He always did. Late at night, the manager was still awake in his office, making phone calls and filling out the necessary paperwork.

_They'll get him. I'll make sure of it. I can see it in the way they both look at that little boy. Love and hope in their eyes. I hope that one day, it can be reflected in Alex's, too. They'll be amazing fathers. I'll make sure that they get him. There is no way I will let him be taken away by those monsters._

* * *

Pickles had always thought of his drumkit as his baby: sleek, beautiful and huge in comparison to the tiny boy he had loved so much. It had been a labour of love, and now love rushed through him, stronger than anything he felt for some piece of metal he liked to smash on occasion. Today would be the day when they found out whether they had suceeded in adopting Alex or not. Pickles and Toki stood outside Charles' office, trying to listen to phone calls, but the manager had suspected this beforehand and made sure to go into the en suite to make his calls. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Charles left his office to find Pickles and Toki, staring at him with pleading faces.

Charles smiled. "He's all yours."


	8. Die For You

"I stays...I always stays for you, Pickle..."

"Wahht?"

"I..." Toki stared at his fingers. There really was no point to what he was saying anymore. "I's in loves with you...I always stays...I wants you to know..."

Pickles just blinked.

"I's sorries w-when I make y-you angry," his voice trembled. "I promises...I won'ts mess ups again!"

He looked close to tears. Even though Pickles wanted to, he couldn't stay angry at Toki.

Funny the way things turn out. His family - his _other_ family - abandoned him. Toki did not. And though he'd never admit it to anyone else but Toki, he liked that he stuck with him.

* * *

Toki knew how to make Pickles feel regret.

"We shoulda done dis a _lahhng_ time ago," he muttered, breathing into his ear. Before, he never looked beyond his blue shirt and brown jeans. But now he saw _him:_ hair spilling like angel wings, eyes twinkling, desirable...and beautiful. Pickles had never really thought of anything as beautiful before.

He smiled sleepily. "I's imagined dis for a longs times..."

"Were ya pleasantly _suuur_prised?"

"Naturallies."

_Goddammit, _hethought, _to think what I could have had all these years…_

"Wanna make up for lost time?" Pickles asked.

"Please, Pickle..."

He'd never regret this.

* * *

Toki knew exactly where and how to touch him, his tapered fingers dancing over his body, like brushstrokes, until Pickles' skin tingled and he wanted to yell at him for teasing him, in that delicate way of his. Pickles was rough and Toki was gentle and sometimes they tried it his way, other times Pickles' way. He'd never admit it, but Pickles loved being lazy and slow. Slow and soft drew it out. Toki was a man who definitely knew how to satisfy someone.

* * *

He kept running after Skwisgaar, Nathan and Murderface, who were trying to find a way out of the burning Mordhaus.

His stomach lurched. _Toki._ He didn't know if it was too late. The Tribunal had reached its final judgement. He thought of his lover.

_If I die, I'll have died for you._

Nathan was suddenly running backwards, in the direction of where he suspected Toki would have been. Skwisgaar called after him; so did Murderface. But Pickles remained silent, almost crying when Nathan yelled that he was going to look for Toki.

Skwisgaar and Murderface followed him.

* * *

"Pickle...what happeneds when Magnus lefts the band?"

"It was strange," Pickles sighed. "Nat'en told us to go someplace important, see if we could find anyone dat looked good enough. Stoopid, really – you'd think we could jest hold auditions. But after I dropped everyone off, I realised. It's naht dat stoopid. You've gatta have sam-thin' personal with yer bandmates. A relationship ya can't explain, it can't be broken. So I went, and looked at dat shop where they sell all da heavy metal guitars. It was empty. And I thought, damn, jest who the hell am I gunna find, dat's good enough fer Dethklok?"

Toki stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"...then I saw you."


	9. Keeping Haus

"Pickle, I wants a wolf."

"Ya want a _waht_ now?"

Toki blinked. "The wolves outsides. I wants one. I can tames it."

Pickles stared. "Yer fuckin' jokin'."

The rhythm guitarist shook his head, not even noticing that Alex had walked in - the little boy was still getting used to his surroundings. "It can bes a birthday present for Alex!"

Toki didn't understand why Pickles was giggling so much.

* * *

Pickles was drunk - and it was very late. He'd stumbled into Mordhaus at a ridiculous hour, coercing shrieks from Nathan and groans from Skwisgaar as the drummer wandered the corridors, singing a very repetitive song that consisted of one line. Alex slept in Toki's room, being far too little to have his own room, even though the Klokateers would fiercely guard it. The rhythm guitarist and the little boy heard the sound of someone staggering down the long corridor, and they poked their heads from the doorway, giggling at the sound.

"The old grey mare, she ain't waht she used ta be, ain't waht she used ta be, ain't waht she used ta be!"

"PICKLESCH, SCHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'M GONNA ROASCHT YOUR ASCH FOR BREAKFASCHT!"

"This ams dildos...I has a bunch of my favourites womens in heres...please shuts up!"

Nathan roared, for as loud and as long as possible, prompting Pickles to hum his song rather quietly, and for Skwisgaar to march down the hallway, oblivious to the fact he was naked, and attempt to punch Nathan in the face. From behind Toki, Alex watched, a little taken aback by the outrageous events. The rhythm guitarist smiled caringly, ruffling the boy's hair, assuring him it was nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

Here Pickles was, holding the man he'd married, trying to assure him that he _did_ love him. Hell, Pickles couldn't even comprehend the feelings that rushed through his veins, heart and mind whenever he saw Toki. The shivers whenever the younger man spoke. The adrenalin rush he had whenever they decided to make love instead of fuck, knowing that _he_ was the reason Toki was making all those sounds...

Especially this time. It was his fault Toki was crying.

"I l-loves you...w-why-"

"Ya can't ask yersel' why ya love someone," Pickles firmly said, pushing Toki away, but holding onto his shoulders. "Ya love someone because ya jest _do._ I love you and I don't know why, either...there could be shitlahds of reasons, but nahn of 'em will be the right one...I love you, alright? I'm sahhry if I don't say it enough, babe...but ye jest have ta know it."

Toki blinked, sniffled, and cuddled into Pickles, who simply welcomed him there, knowing he would just have to wait for the younger one to calm down.

* * *

"Everybodies, this is my moms...Moms, this is...well, everybodies..."

Skwisgaar was having a hard time introducing his mother to the band. All of their mothers were in Mordhaus at that moment, much to their displeasure. Serveta wished to be known to those "attractive young mens" and Skwisgaar simply turned back to his guitar. Murderface was completely taken with her; Toki looked a little nervous; Nathan just looked pissed off with the universe, and Pickles made a mental note to get drunk later. Once Skwisgaar had shied away in total embarassment, Pickles took the move.

"I'm Pickles, sahhry that Skwisgaar is so _rude _sometimes," he grinned, taking Serveta's right hand. "Oh my gahd, you have lahvely soft hands."

Toki tried to force a smile, as did Nathan, but the rhythm guitarist couldn't help feel the fright in him surface again, the same feeling he had when Pickles left for the Snakes n' Barrels tour. He tried not to feel a sense of loss or jealousy, this was Skwisgaar's _mother_, but it must have been evident - Nathan shoved him. Toki's hands balled into clenched fists, telling himself Pickles was allowed to do this, he was allowed to have a bit of fun, completely joking like the typical prankster he was...

* * *

Alex was still getting used to calling Pickles by his name. It sounded so silly. He'd called him 'daddy' a few times, which made the drummer smile in a way he was sure he'd never smiled before. He'd lost sleep thinking about it, how much he loved Toki and Alex. When he had both of them in his arms together, he was certain what he wanted to do. Toki was his _husband. _Pickles was proud to be able to say that. Everybody had told him that they'd never last, never make it...he smiled to himself. He'd proved them wrong. Reaching down to the rhythm guitarist in his arms, he kissed Toki gently on the forehead - he loved sex and he was still a little nervous doing the smaller gestures of affection. Toki smiled in his sleep, curling up tighter. Pickles didn't shove him away.


	10. Movie Nights

"I can'ts believes you're scared!"

"Deammit, Toki, I've _ahlways_ hated clowns."

For movie night, it was Toki's turn. Toki had chosen _IT_, specializing in eternal clowns, eaters of worlds - and children.

Pennywise had just claimed another victim.

Pickles hid in shame, burying himself into a tiny ball while Murderface whooped with hysterical laughter. Next movie night, it was Pickles' turn. Toki liked _scary,_ not _gory._ Oh, he was going to get him back good.

* * *

Pickles chose a favourite of Murderface's for the next movie night, every Friday. The bassist and the drummer had spent that week looking online and around video stores for the most goriest, disturbing movie they could muster for the whole band. Nathan and Murderface were fearless, and had stomaches of iron. Nothing fazed them at all. Skwisgaar didn't really care, though he did often say "This is a bits too fars..." when something was beyond his limit. Pickles was training himself to be like Nathan and Murderface, and Toki just couldn't handle gore.

Unfortunately, the goriest, most disturbing, disgusting movie they could find on the Internet wasn't available, so the duo chose the second worst they could find: _Cannibal Holocaust._

"Aw, yesch! Thisch is gunna be _grrreat!"_ Murderface exclaimed, when Pickles placed the new DVD in the drive.

"What's it called?" Nathan questioned. Pickles told him the title with a great smile. "Uh. Seen it like, seventeen times."

Pickles sat down, and for the next two hours Dethklok remained there. Murderface laughed throughout; Skwisgaar groaned but seemed to enjoy it; Nathan knew what to expect; Pickles was a little edgy, but eventually warmed to it; none of them realised Toki had his eyes shielded throughout the whole thing.

"Fucks you, Moiderface!"

"Blame Picklesch, it was hisch idea!"

* * *

Nathan's turn for the next Friday had the band watching what Pickles and Murderface had tried to get ahold of: _August Underground's Mordum. _This movie had the whole package and the bonus deal. Necrophilia, murder, infanticide, pedophilia...every other disgusting -philia and -phagia suffix anyone could think up.

The lead singer was the only one who managed to survive the whole movie - he left the room with a straight expression, the blood drained from his face.

* * *

"Looks, Nathans, you know that Pickles does not likes the clowns, ja?"

Skwisgaar stood before Nathan, looking very amused in contrast to the singer's bewilderment. The lead guitarist beckoned towards the door, and a strange figure entered. Nathan wasn't fazed by his huge, red floppy shoes, or the ridiculous yellow trousers with orange pompoms, or the white face, or the mane of blood-red hair...until he realised that the attempt at Pennywise was in fact Murderface. The lead singer simply blinked, and then went back to staring out the window.

"Aw, Schkwisgaar, I can't do his damn voice! Thisch isch a really bad idea!"

* * *

Toki and Pickles lay shirtless together, twining fingers together. They silently thanked each other it wasn't movie night, or any other 'night' - aside from theirs together. They leaned in to kiss each other, lips tingling...

Murderface burst the door open, holding a bunch of balloons, and talking in a raspy voice. Pickles shrieked loudly and fell to the floor, curling up in a ball. Toki just blinked.

"Oh, it's only Moidaface! Comes on, Pickle, he is not the real clowns..."

The whooping laughter from Skwisgaar rang all the way down the hallway, echoing loudly.


	11. Epilogue

One year, five years, ten years.

Pickles grew. Toki grew. Alex grew.

The two fathers watched their shy, quiet five year-old grow and evolve into a fifteen-year-old young man. Shoulder-length brown hair masked his face, like Kurt Cobain hiding a smile. Alex still resembled a Toki that wore baggy jumpers, always rolled up to his elbow; ripped jeans, and Converse. Of course it was real Converse. Pickles wouldn't buy him anything less, even when Alex insisted. The young man's experiences were still forming his personality, who he was, and many a night did he cry into his pillow, hating who he was, hating himself so much, so convinced that his _real_ parents hated him back, that was why they'd abandoned him...

But then he thought of Pickles and Toki. Alex didn't give a fuck if they loved each other. They were his parents. Dethklok were his family. He was raised on good music, and he was adamant in the belief he would be a musician when he was older. While growing up in Mordhaus, he had been outside many times. He had thought about life, and whether or not he would ever forgive his biological parents.

The answer was no. If they had loved Alex, and kept him in their care, he never would have been the young man he was now. Alex wouldn't have changed himself for anyone - and he wouldn't change his stupid, crazy, brutal, dysfunctional family either.

* * *

Dethklok were getting on. All of the band members were pushing fifty-three and only Skwisgaar still looked twenty-four. Alex had created a running joke that Skwisgaar's guitar kept him frozen in one time dimension, so he could shred forever and keep metal alive. Even though they were older, and not as agile as they were in earlier years, and Alex was nearly eighteen by now, they were still teenagers when all together. They could still laugh, they could still watch movies together, go shopping - and end miserably - and still be the Dethklok that Alex remembered all those years ago.

Until the night Toki wouldn't wake up from his sleep.

* * *

Alex cried. Pickles cried. Murderface cried. Hell, even Nathan cried.

Skwisgaar was a robot.

Nathan, Murderface and Alex just sat, totally uncaring, when Pickles suddenly flew himself at the lead guitarist and began punching him, pounding his fists on his chest. Skwisgaar didn't even seem to notice.

"Y-Ya stoopid fuckin' _ass!_ Toki fuckin' loved ya and ya cean't even _cry_ about him! Yer g-gonna f-feel so f-fuckin' guilty, y-ya stoopid f-fuck, and t-then ye'll jest cahm_plain,_ _fuck,_ _do ya even understeand what he fuckin' meant ta me? Ta US? THE F-FUCKIN' BAND? HE WAS MY FUCKIN' HUSBAND! HE WAS-"_

Nathan stood up without a word and effortlessly pinned Pickles' arms behind his chest, holding him away from Skwisgaar. Pickles continued to scream and fight, his words of love for Toki and hate for Skwisgaar's apathy spilling out of his mouth. Alex didn't look up. His mane of brown hair hid his face entirely. Nathan looked at Skwisgaar, and was reduced to even further speechlessness. The lead guitarist was crying.

* * *

Charles - bless his soul - explained everything.

Toki had passed away in his sleep. It was a rare occurence, a very rare one, said the doctors - _why did it have to be my Toki? _Pickles wanted to scream. He had had a heart attack of some sort in his sleep, without even knowing it, and died only a few moments later. Pickles couldn't comfort himself with the stupid fact that Toki didn't suffer. All the suffering that Toki could have undergone was now being transferred into the drummer.

He couldn't even listen to music anymore, or walk around Mordhaus without seeing eighty million things that reminded him of Toki. Everything Nathan said, or Skwisgaar played, or Murderface ranted about. Pickles was some kind of nihilist but now he wished that Heaven was a real place. Was Toki watching over Mordhaus? Was that even possible...? Pickles felt more alone than he ever had in his life.

Everything hurt.

On Alex's eighteenth birthday, there was little celebration. Toki would have had them laughing, whether he meant it or not. He recieved brilliant presents, but the best one of all came from Skwisgaar. He had come up to Alex in his room, who had been upset over the fact one of his fathers wasn't there anymore to see one of the most important days of his life. The lead guitarist waited until Alex sensed his presence, and then pulled out what he was hiding behind his back.

"I think you should haves dis," he murmured, his accent still thick with Swedish. He was holding, by the fretboard, a black and white Gibson Flying V. The very same that Toki had used all the years Dethklok ruled the world. It was obviously worn, and played to death. But it still had years and years of life living inside of it, waiting for the right person to coax it out with their hands.

For the first time since he'd arrived at Mordhaus, Alex hugged Skwisgaar. And for the first time he could remember, Skwisgaar hugged him back.

* * *

There were rumours. Tabloids. Sensations everywhere. _Will Dethklok split up? What does this mean for the world? Will they continue as they are? Dethklok Minute has it all..._

Thousands of potential rhythm guitarists couldn't match up to Toki Wartooth - and Skwisgaar Skwigelf had said so.

The job went to Alex.

And whenever he went on stage, he would just have to take a look at his stupid, crazy, brutal, dysfunctional family - and the music would find itself through the guitar. He would jump about, run around, just how Toki had. He played like Toki. But still, Alex was so uniquely himself. He was the baby of the band. He wore different clothes. And the world bowed down at his feet.

For Dethklok, they hadn't really cared about the music unless it was brutal.

This time, they cared. So much thought and effort went into their debut album with Alex that it was regarded as a whole new Dethklok: but the album went to legendary status almost immediately, the solos outranking that of previous guitarists that had ruled the metal world. The album showcased Nathan's vocal talent, even containing a ballad dedicated to Toki, written by Murderface. But it was still a thunderously loud song, the vocals spanning over three octaves and was one that never left their setlist. Murderface's best bass skills dominated an entire track: three minutes of an improvised bass solo. It had been unusual to include a bass solo on albums, but it was the most widely known track on the album. Pickles bashed his drums like no tomorrow, not stopping until every beat was perfect and he had it right.

The album was dedicated to Toki Wartooth. On the cover, there were no brutal images of graphic childbirth, murder, or whatever. Instead, was a simple photograph. A portrait of each band member, looking downwards. In the middle of the portraits, was one of Toki, smiling upwards.

The smile never left his face.


End file.
